Total Drama Operation: Dating
by TheQueenofBooks1000
Summary: Chris and Chef have a new scheme up their sleeves! How will they torture the contestants now? By setting up dates of course! Some will be a bust, some will strangely work out. Requests of crack pairings are accepted. Read up!
1. Prologue: Chris's Insane Plan

**Hi, there, everyone. You know, lately I realized that I've got a love for crack pairings. I mean, canon pairings are cool, but they already got their spotlight in the show.**

**So this story is basically crack. Period.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TDI/A/ROTI**

* * *

"Welcome, to Total...Drama!" the host, Chris McLean said, flashing his brilliantly white teeth directly at the camera and possibly blinding viewers. "Now, you're probably wondering why nothing came after 'drama.' Well, that's 'cause this isn't part of any season! It's a reunion episode! Or, maybe, a reunion bunch of episodes, whatever. So, without further ado, here are the former contestants!"

Thirty-seven twenty (and nineteen) year-olds appeared out of nowhere, and the camera zoomed into them. Some were smiling, some were glaring, and curiously, some were bound and gagged.

Chris smiled his oh-so charming grin. "Now, now, I know you aren't as happy to see them as you are to see me, but unfortunately, the producers won't let me have my own talk show. And you know the feeling of being in college and dateless, right?" Chris chuckled. "Well, I don't! Girls swarmed me when I was in my good ol' university. Everybody wanted a piece of McLean. But I can't say the same for these losers, who, given their current state, are probably not in tip-top shape in the romance department. So, I—"

"MCLEAN!" the prep known as Courtney roared. She somehow managed to rid herself of the gag, despite the bonds on her wrists. "This is kidnapping! I could sue you, you overgrown troll! It's not legal to burst in the middle of my class and have your ruffians grab me and—MMPH!"

An intern had placed the gag back on her mouth tiredly. In return, Courtney flicked her leg back, right on his 'kiwis.' The poor guy groaned in pain.

"Thanks, intern!" Chris shouted, winking at Courtney, who scowled at him in response.

"_A__nyway," _the narcissistic celebrity continued pointedly, "dating shows are popular these days. And now, I'll just—"

"But I have a boyfriend!" Bridgette exclaimed, tucking her arm into Geoff's.

"Yeah," Zoey chorused. Girls started nodding in agreement.

"Me, too," Tyler yelled. "I mean, I have a _girl_friend," he added quickly, when people shot him weird looks.

"Stop interrupting me!" Chris all but exploded. "Chef? Do the honors?"

Chef, clad in a skimpy red dress, glared at the former contestants and shoved a large fishbowl into Chris' hands.

"Thank you. Oh, and I dig the dress, dude!" Chris laughed.

Chef grunted and stood next to Chris, shooting everyone the evil eye.

"So, lemme explain the rules. Each contestant will take a sheet of paper. In this case, we'll do it the Sadie Hawkins way, meaning the girls will get a sheet of paper with a name of a dude on it. Or," he said with a malicious smirk, "maybe not a dude. And since Blainelely finally moved to somewhere far away, there is a total of thirty-seven contestants. Meaning, there is something called the 'surprise' option."

"Uh, excuse me?" Heather said snidely. She, too, was one of the people who refused to go and had to be bound and gagged. Alejandro, who went willingly, untied her, like a proper gentleman would—and he was rewarded with a slap from Heather.

"Surprise option," Chris repeated. "Yeah, you heard me right."

"This is stupid," Eva, who used her strength to snap the rope on her wrists and chomped the gag off, growled. "I am not going to date any idiot who isn't worthy of my glorious power!"

"Really?" Chris said, quirking an eyebrow. "Even if it means"—he whipped a briefcase seemingly out of nowhere—"one-hundred thousand dollars?"

"What happened to the million?" Sam asked, scratching his head.

The host rolled his eyes. "Um, hel-_lo, _do you think I'll be willing to give all that money for a handful of episodes that focus on _dates?_ What about the maintenance of my sportscars? Or the money we spend for these designer, high-class outfits?" he cried, gesturing at his body.

"You wear the same thing everyday," Beth said, perplexed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Chris snapped, brushing lint from his blue-green shirt, paired with his khakis, as usual.

"Lightning's gonna sha-win the gold! Gimme that fishbowl!"

"Nuh-uh! Explosivo's gonna get the goods!"

"What about me? I'm the prettiest! Uh, Sally, where's Tyler?"

"I'm not letting this slip now that I got rid of that stupid shark!"

Lightning didn't waste any time and lunged for Chris and the fishbowl.

"Whoa, easy there, tiger," Chris reproached him as soon Chef stopped him with a single meaty hand. "I said, _girls. _Unless you still can't tell males from females, bro, then not you. Let's start with...Staci!"

Another intern reluctantly undid her gag. Unlike the others, she went willingly, but she began to tell them that one of her ancestors invented cloth. After twenty more 'greats,' before the word 'grandma,' all the interns couldn't take it anymore.

Staci opened her mouth the minute the gag came off. "Yeah, my great-great granddad created fishbowls. Before him, everyone kept their fish in their pockets, and, like, had to pour water per second. Ooh, and strips of paper! Like, don't get me started on my great, great, great, great—"

"Just get the -bleep- piece of paper!" Chris said through clenched teeth. Everyone nodded in agreement.

Staci shrugged and merrily skipped towards the fishbowl. She plucked a strip of paper and squinted at it.

"Well, girl? Don't keep us here all day!" Leshawna called out.

Staci was uncharacteristically quiet. Or maybe it was because she couldn't claim that a relative invented boys.

"I got..."

* * *

**Ooh, cliffhanger! Tsk, tsk. Anyway, suggestions of who Staci will end up on a date with is entirely up to you! (Or at least, leave your suggestions at the review and I'll see if I could write a date with that pairing. Make sure to make it completely random and cracked! Leave your requests, and please REVIEW!**


	2. The Delinquent and The Compulsive Liar

**Here's the new chapter! Brace yourselves for something...different.**

**Thanks to all the reviewers! (Especially I'll Cover Angel and Collins, who also reviewed my other stories.)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TDI/A/WT/ROTI**

* * *

"...Duncan," Staci finished, after what seemed to be a long time. Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh, my gosh, now I remember! Like, my great-great uncle Freddy invented dates. Yeah, before him, people just sit at home and have spaghetti-eating contests, which his wife invented."

Chris let out a chuckle. "You heard her, Duncan. Looks like you're the lucky man! It's time to get ready for your date."

The juvenile delinquent, who was not only bound and gagged, but strapped on to his Hannibal Lecter dolly along with the muzzle, widened his eyes and shook his head furiously.

Courtney smirked inwardly at the distress of her ex. _Karma's a bitch_, she thought.

"Here," Chris said, tossing Duncan a bag, which smacked him right in the eye. The bag sprung open, revealing a coat and tie.

"MMMMPHH!" Duncan protested, thrashing wildly.

"Chef! Help Mr. Criminale and Miss Chatterbox get dressed."

"Move it, maggot," Chef grunted, wheeling Duncan around by his choker.

* * *

"..and that was how great-Aunt Esther invented toothpaste."

"_Fascinating," _Duncan drawled, puncturing another hole into his sandwich.

Chris set their date in an Italian restaurant, conveniently hiring a bunch of burly interns to watch over them and chaining their feet on their chairs, which didn't really work for Duncan, who needed to pee. Badly.

For the last. Thirty. Minutes.

His scratchy suit (which Chef literally shoved him into) didn't help matters. Neither did Staci's strapless little gown, which looked severely unflattering, and neon pink. And the makeup that some idiot did for her resembled some lame horror movie he saw in middle school.

"Hey, Stace? You want to see something interesting?"

"What?" Staci asked through a mouthful of lasagna.

The delinquent rolled up his sleeve and raised his arm. "See this scar?" he asked, in a tone usually used to intimidate cops. "I got this in a knife fight in juvie. But if you think think that _this _is bad, you should see the guy I fought with."

Staci's eyes widened, and Duncan thought for a moment that he finally succeeded in shutting her up.

"Oh! That reminds me! My mom's aunt invented bandages in the 1960s!"

Duncan tried to loosen his collar, which was digging into his throat. He shot a glare at the gigantic camera next to their table, which definitely looked inconspicuous. Not.

"You know, I got arrested once for shoplifting," Duncan said coolly. "I was actually sent to jail overnight."

"My great-Uncle Frankie invented jail cells! Like, before him, criminals were, like stuffed into cages."

"And I attempted to rob a bank—"

"—which great-great-great-Aunt Millie came up with—"

"—and nearly got shot by some dude with a gun—"

"—invented by great-times-twenty-grandfather Lucas, circa 1883."

Duncan gave up and stuffed a piece of beef in his mouth.

Encouraged by the silence, Staci continued, "And you know something cooler? My great-great-great-great-great-great-great—"

"Duncan and Staci!" Chris said, appearing in front of their table, dressed in his Gilded Chris Awards outfit. "Having fun?"

Duncan shot him the darkest glare he could muster and placed another piece of beef in his mouth, chewing it as if it were still alive. Staci shrugged, and cheerfully swallowed more lasagna.

"So, get ready for the next part of your challenge, dudes!"

The same intern that Courtney kicked in the jewels came up to them, with a tuxedo and a slight limp. He rolled a giant wheel to them, like in Wheel of Fortune.

Duncan's right eye began to twitch when he saw that, instead of money prices, it said stuff like, "Kiss" or "Hug" or even worse, "Dance with your date monkey-style on top of your table in your underwear."

Stripping down was fine for him, hell, even dancing like a monkey didn't sound so bad. After all, he was known for doing more disgusting stuff back home.

Staci, on the other hand...well, the dancing thing was another story.

A story that may make him boil his eyes.

"Ooh, I _love _Wheel of Fortune!" Staci gushed. "Yeah, like my Uncle Rupert came up with the idea for the show. Without him, it will probably be Wheel of Ugliness or something."

Chris winked. "So you know the rules," he said, casually thumbing some note cards. "Question number one for Duncan: Who's your date's great-great-great—"

"Guy who came up with...um, uh...ballet-dancing cockroaches!" Duncan said the first thing that popped in his head. _Please, not the kissing option. Or the dancing one, either!_

"Staci?" Chris asked, lifting an eyebrow at the compulsive liar.

"Wow!" Staci exclaimed, looking at Duncan. "You were _actually_ listening to me."

The green-haired teenager flashed her a weak smile. A tinge of red began creeping up Staci's face as she smiled, her lips covered with tomato sauce.

"Staci, you can spin the wheel," Chris said, clearly amused with the situation. The girl nodded and spun the wheel.

_Please help me,_ Duncan silently prayed, as he watched the wheel pass the kissing option again and again. _I won't do graffiti on walls again, even if that mean old guy deserved it! I won't cheat on my girlfriend for a month! I'll stop picking on Harold...wait, never mind. Just don't let me get the kissing option!_

_He _soo _likes me, _Staci thought, also watching the wheel. _It must be because of my awesome ancestry...and maybe it's this dress, too!_

_I wonder if I used enough hair gel this morning, _Chris pondered, running a hand on his fabulous hair.

The wheel slowed...and landed on the kiss option.

"What!" Duncan yelled, leaping up from his seat (and bringing the chair chained to him, as well). "How is that—how can—" he sputtered. "This thing is rigged, isn't it?"

Chris hid a smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he insisted. "Now let the young lady use her mouth for something else other than talking!"

"Yeah, Duncan," Staci said, leaning forward. Duncan could see the tomato sauce on her lips, the _hungry _look in her eyes...

And that was when he ran away. From the restaurant, from the park, probably from the entire city, from the _really _annoying chick.

Oh, yeah, and newsflash? He needed to pee. For nearly an hour.

All the passersby saw was a green blur with a chair attached to his ankle.

Staci scoffed. "He wouldn't have gotten along with my great-Uncle Jerry anyway. He came up with police officers, you know," she told the camera.

Chris snatched the camera from Staci. "Will Duncan end up somewhere in Europe _again? _Will he be bringing that chair with him forever, since I have the key?"

"Great-great-Aunt Stella invented keys!" Staci interrupted, off-screen.

Chris rolled his eyes. "And will our resident blabbermouth _ever shut up?"_ The camera began to zoom out slowly._ "_Find out next time, on Total...Drama...Dating Reunion Episodes!

The scene began to darken, but suddenly, the intern whispered something in the host's ear. Chris smacked his forehead, and the screen zoomed in quickly, the entire screen of the viewers' TV focusing purely on his nose.

"Hey, zoom out a bit, cameraman!" Chris's nose snapped. The camera zoomed out, and Chris's entire face was seen again.

"Oops, sorry about that, folks. Before we wrap this episode up, let's get our next lucky gal...Dakota!"

A platinum blond socialite made an appearance. "Hi!" she exclaimed, flashing a pose. "It's me!"

"Watch this," Chris said to the camera. He whispered something in Dakota's ear, and her face became shocked, then angry, then completely furious.

Before their eyes, Dakota shot up seven feet, her blond hair turned green, and her skin turned even more orange than Anne Maria's spray-tanned skin.

"DAKOTA WILL KILL CHRIS!" Dakota tried to grab him, but accidentally got the intern instead.

"This will be interesting," smirked Chris. "Dakota is like, a were-Dakotazoid or something. The meds helped her become semi-normal, or at least, as normal as a fame monger can be, but she still turns _ballistic _when she gets mad."

Dakotazoid roared, and the intern screamed off-screen.

"I wonder who the lucky dude will be? Find out next time on Total Drama!"

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**Yeahhh. I don't think Dunci will ever work out. Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter! And who do you want Dakota (or Dakotazoid) to be paired up with? REVIEW, please!**


	3. The Homeschooled Guy and The Fame Monger

**Here's to the third chapter! Will this pairing work out? Or will it suck?**

**Once again, thanks for the reviews. **

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TDI/A/WT/ROTI**

* * *

Dakota tossed her platinum blond hair aside and glanced at her boyfriend. "I'm sorry for this, Sammy-bear!"

Sam shrugged. "It's cool, Dakota. Just try to control your temper. Remember the yoga class we took together?"

Of course Dakota remembered. Sam was _so _sweet to attend the class with her when he could be playing video games. Who could forget that? Not to mention the mental image of him in stretch pants. The teenage socialite shuddered. Not an easy thing to forget either.

Slowly, she placed her manicured fingers in the fishbowl and dug around the strips of paper. _No one too gross,_ she thought hopefully. She called the paparazzi, and they just might come tonight.

"Hurry up," Chris said. "Thirty minute show!"

"Twenty-two minutes!" Harold corrected from the back. Dakota squeezed her eyes shut. Taking a deep breath, she plucked a piece of paper and held it an inch away from her face. She let out a groan. "Ezekiel."

The home-schooled guy stared up at her. The blonde stared back down at him.

Zeke scratched behind his ear using his foot and began growling like a lunatic. Dakota sighed. "I guess I could have done worse," she muttered. "Hey, Chris? How exactly will we get to our date?"

"With this," Chris said, grabbing a collar with a leash fastened on it.

"That's inhumane!" Bridgette gasped.

Chris shrugged. "Well, Zeke isn't really much of a human, either. Here," he said, tossing the leash to Dakota. "Have fun on your date." He turned to the camera, his sadistic grin back. "As if that's possible! Will Zeke piss Dakota off even if he can hardly even talk? Will Dakota turn into Dakotazoid? And can my skin get any better? Find out when we return!"

"CHRIS!" Dakota screeched, her height slowly increasing.

"Dakota! Remember the yoga! Yoga! Yo—GAHHH!" Sam screamed as his girlfriend plucked him from the ground and began shaking him like a rag doll.

* * *

"So, _Ezekiel," _Dakota said, boredly examining her fingernails. "How's it going?"

"Grrmph-uggrn," Zeke replied, looking back at her with wide eyes. Without another word, he started licking his plate.

To make matters worse, Dakota could see a bunch of journalists and cameramen outside the restaurant. They were pretty hard to ignore, with all the cameras flashing and questions like, "Miss Dakota! Are you dumping Sam for Ezekiel?" or, "Is Chris going to be the minister in your wedding?"

Yeah. Why did she call the paparazzi again?

At least she looked stunning in her silver sequined dress. Ezekiel looked almost human in his suit. Other than his greenish skin, of course. And his rat's nest hair. And of course, the dog leash. Jeez.

"You know, I don't get why I was sent to this date with you," Dakota continued. "Like, no offense or whatever, but you can't hardly talk. And it's like I'm on a date with myself."

"M-myself," Zeke shakily repeated. "Y-y-yo, eh."

Dakota's eyebrows raised. "Hey, you're turning human again!" she exclaimed. "Like, that's great." She delicately took a bite of the hundred-dollar-worth sashimi that she paid for with Daddy's credit card. Zeke slobbered over his plate, grunting.

After a moment of awkward silence, the teenage girl tried to hold another conversation. "Ya know, Zeke? Total Drama ruined our lives. I mean, I used to be hot, and I still am, but now I'm like, part-monster! Ugh. And you used to be...well, semi-human, and now you're like...not human at all!" She slammed her fist on the table. "We should work together for revenge on Chris!"

"Chris," Zeke said, almost clearly this time. He panted, and began drooling on the table.

"Yeah. If you think about it, we're like the same. And no," she added, eyeing the drool, "not us. But our _situation. _We kept on returning to the game, and we turned into gross monsters in the end of the season. Plus, it's like no one cared!"

Ezekiel smiled, and Dakota was caught off guard at how...well, normal he looked. Not handsome, exactly, but c'mon, anything was an improvement over that feral look he was sporting.

"You're not as bad as I thought," Dakota smiled, sipping her iced tea. "I've been to dates with worse guys."

Then, the most amazing thing happened. Ezekiel began to form a sentence. "The girls in the show..."

Dakota inched closer. "Yes?"

Zeke hesitated. "Are-are not..."

"As pretty as I am? As awesome? As smokingly hot?" Dakota suppressed a grin and anticipated his next words, always a sucker for compliments.

"Is Ezekiel going back to being human?" a journalist called out.

"Shut up!" Dakota snapped, and turned her attention back to Zeke. "Go on, Zekey."

"...as smart as guys, eh."

Dakota felt like her face was just flattened by a football. "Excuse me?" she screeched, jumping from her seat and earning glances from the other customers. "Like, can you be more sexist?" Dakota's height slowly inched upward. I mean, girls are just as smart!" Her voice became deeper. You know what, forget what I said." Her skin turned radioactive orange, and her hair turned avocado green. "Ezekiel is just as bad as jerks Dakota dated!"

"It's DAKOTAZOID!" a reporter gasped, and soon everyone was snapping pictures of him.

Ezekiel trembled with fear, and he tried to get out of his leash. Dakotazoid growled loudly, and people scattered about as she held Zeke up by the leg.

"Time for your first picture as a couple!" Chris shouted, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. He whipped out a Polaroid and snapped a picture of Dakotazoid chucking Feral Zeke to the chandelier. Chris sniggered. "What a cute couple, eh, Chef?"

Chef shrugged. "Reminds me of the relationship I had with my ex-girlfriend," he said gruffly.

Chris gave him a weirded-out look before turning back to the intern holding the camera. "Well, with that awesome date, let's hear it for our next contestant! Our very own moonchild, Dawn!"

The camera panned to a petite blond girl. "Hi," she said uncertainly, and turned to Chris. "You know, your aura says you're planning something terrible."

"Well, then, maybe your aura junk isn't pure baloney after all," Chris laughed. He tossed the fishbowl containing the strips of paper at her.

Dawn grasped the bowl, and her eyes widened in shock. "A fish used to live in here," she said, cradling the fishbowl. "A guppy. And I can still hear his spirit..." She turned to Chris, her eyes flashing. "What did you do to him?"

Chris shrugged. "My cat was hungry."

Dawn groaned, and finally dug her fingers deep into the bowl. Her face turned blank. "Um...I got..."

Before she can finish, Dakotazoid roared off-screen, and Ezekiel was thrown face-first into the camera. Then the TV screen went black.

* * *

**The date itself wasn't very long, but come on. What can you expect from a dude who only growls and grunts? Anyway, Dawn's up next? Who's she gonna go out with? REVIEW!**


	4. The Arch-Villain and The Moonchild

**Okay. So I kind of had a hard time deciding with who to pair Dawn with, since everyone had different opinions on the matter. (Plus, she's a fan favorite in crack pairings.) On the one hand, it would be hard for me to write about Dawn with Alejandro. On the other, it _is _the most unusual pairing yet. And of course, I have to consider the votes, all of which are pointing to Alejandro. So here is my fail attempt at Dalejandro (Alejandawn?)**

**Thanks to the reviewers, especially NerdyBarista, Light of the Dawn, I'll Cover Angel and Collins, wolflover595, Potterpalgirl123, and Miss. Kookies, all of whom have reviewed more than once in various stories of mine. Thanks to everybody who read this story!**

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

* * *

"Here," Chef Hatchet said, handing Dawn a white dress. Dawn looked at the garb with a mixture of repulsion and horror. "I can't wear this," she exclaimed, as if he were forcing her to wear chains.

Chef raised a thick eyebrow at her. "And why not, girl?"

The blond girl pointed at the feathers sewn on the hem. "An innocent bird died for this dress," she said sadly. She put her ear against the fabric and sighed. "It's okay, my friend."

"Cheer up, _chica," _Alejandro said, sympathy dripping in his words. "He's in a better place now."

Dawn looked at him, her eyes unfocused. "It's a she," she corrected him. Then she shot him a look of understanding. "Alejandro, it's fine, you don't have to be a ladies' man all the time. Try to relax a little bit, not everything is a competition between your brothers." Giving an upset look at the feathers, she took the dress with her and left the room.

The Latino stood there, his mouth hanging open. "What in the world was that?"

Chef shook his head. "Man, I said it once, and I'll say it again: that girl is creepy with a capital 'C'.

* * *

"So, Dawn," Alejandro said, seductively chewing a bite of his food. "Tell me about yourself,_ mi preciosa__," _he said softly, the candlelight illuminating his chiseled features.

"I can read auras, and...I can palm read," she began, sounding rather distracted. Alejandro raised a napkin to his mouth, and smirked. The girl was beginning to sound distracted...meaning she wasn't immune to his charms after all.

Dawn's gaze suddenly snapped up to meet his. "It's not what you think, Alejandro," she said in a low voice. "I was distracted by the chicken that was just massacred ten months ago. You know, the one that you are chewing. I can still hear its pain."

Alejandro was thrown off by her entire statement, but one stood out among the others. He coughed. "Did you say 'ten months ago'?"

"Yes," she replied. "It's life was ended by farmer." She sighed deeply, and closed her eyes. "Ah, it led a peaceful life in the farm, eating worms and pecking little boys..."

The way Dawn described it was so vivid that the scene flashed into Alejandro's mind. He saw a chicken eating a three worms, then spitting one out to one of her chicks. And even worse, Alejandro was indeed aware that the scene he was witnessing was more than a year ago.

"What kind of restaurant is this?" he gagged, clutching his stomach. He spotted a sheet of paper and grabbed it from the floor. It turned out to be a coupon of some sort, edged with dirt. "_Chris McLean Gourmet?!"_

"It's a good thing those weird thugs were willing to sell this rank old place for fifty bucks, eh, Chef?" Chris chuckled, walking past their table

"Yeah, good call," Chef chuckled. "Especially since they left a lot of meat here!"

Due to the fact that it was dark (which explains the candle, because it wasn't really for making the place more romantic), they failed to notice that the 'restaurant' they were dining in looked more like an abandoned asylum. (The fact that they were blindfolded like hostages when they arrived also contributed to that.)

"We really saved a lot," the host agreed.

"Yeah," Chef replied. Then he narrowed his eyes at Chris. "Now how 'bout that raise you promised yesterday?" Chris's eyes widened, and he backed away.

That was all Alejandro needed to hear before he puked his guts out. Unfortunately for Dawn, she happened to be on the receiving end of it. No matter how serene Dawn was, the sight of vomit made her throw up as well, and this time Alejandro was on the receiving end.

"Oh, man, sick!" Chris said, turning slightly green. "It's like ping-pong barf!"

Both of them made a run for the bathrooms, leaving the moonchild and the arch-villain alone, and covered with disgusting green substance.

* * *

"Well, that was beyond revolting," Alejandro admitted, as he and Dawn met up a few hours later in a nearby park as part two of their date (since it lasted only twenty minutes long). Both of them were back to their regular clothes, much to the relief of Dawn, who still wasn't over the feather dress.

"Definitely," Dawn said, still looking disgusted. "And what's more, those animals you ingested died for nothing, since they all ended up in my hair."

"No offense, but this is the grossest date I've ever been in." He grimaced. "And it's not even over yet."

"I'm glad you're not trying to charm me anymore," Dawn observed.

The Latino shrugged. "It would be pointless anyway."

"You know," the petite blond said, wringing out her her still damp hair, "I meant what I said earlier. You don't always have to be threatened by Carlos's and Jose's achievements. They have their shining moments, and you get yours." She paused. "Maybe not from your parents, but hey, all the girls here adore you. Especially Heather, who feels pretty bad about the volcano incident."

"And except for you," Alejandro said dryly.

Dawn smiled. "I'm different," she told him. "Anyway, from what I could see, your brother Jose is a jerk."

"You don't know the half of it," he muttered darkly.

Dawn took his hand in hers, causing the Latino to blush, despite himself. In concentration, she traced the lines of his palms, gathering information." Then she nodded to herself.

"Not bad. Sure, there will be plenty of struggles, but your future's looking pretty good, Mr. Charismatic."

"Mr. Charismatic?" Alejandro repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

The blonde shrugged. "I've been hanging out with Noah lately. So sue me." Smiling again, she returned to her peaceful self. "You're a great guy, despite the stuff that you did in World Tour. I mean, seriously, painting on fish? That's cruel to animals."

"Get to the point," he sighed.

"My _point _is, don't let your insecurities overtake you. I know you're not destined to be the villain all the time."

"As much as I hate to interrupt a _beautiful _moment," Chris said, emerging from the bushes, and making the duo jump, "Your time is almost up." Chris wore a pink bathrobe, since he didn't have any replacement clothes.

"Pink?" Alejandro asked, slightly smirking.

"Because _someone _forgot to take a red sock out of the washing machine," Chris snapped, tossing a glare at Chef.

"Do I look like a maid to you?" Chef snapped back. "Wash your own smelly clothes, pretty boy."

Chris sighed. "Well, due to my absence, this is probably the most boring episode ever."

Alejandro shook his head. "It was okay." Standing up, he smiled at Dawn. "See you later, _hermosa," _he said, only this time, there wasn't any flirtatious teasing behind his words. He stood and walked back to the restaurant to collect his things.

Dawn smiled.

"O-kay," Chris commented, rolling his eyes. "Now that _that's _over, our next lucky gal is—"

"Hey, y'all!" the thick Jersey accent announced the wildly spray-tanned girl. "Anne Maria is in the house!" she cried, as she sprayed her dark hair with a cloud of hairspray.

"Yeah. Here you go," Chris said, handing her the fishbowl. Anne Maria took one look at it and recoiled. "What's that green gunk? No way I'm touchin' that!"

"Fine!" Chris sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Due to some technical difficulties—"

"Because _someone _threw up in the fishbowl," Chef coughed.

The dark-haired host gave him a withering look. "—we will know who Anne Maria's lucky guy will be. Find out next time on Total Drama!"

Chris's face turned into a sickly shade of green as he caught a whiff of Anne Maria's putrid hairspray, and he blew up into the fishbowl again.

* * *

**If anyone is curious about the barfing thing, it's because I got very, very sick last night. You don't need to know all the details. And Alejandro also has a weak stomach. Sorry if this chapter is more mushy than funny. I'll work on that next chapter. Speaking of which, who'll date Anne Maria? Please REVIEW, guys! :)**


	5. The Eye Candy and The JerseyShore Reject

**Ah, the sweet smell of a new chapter. (Okay, forget that I said that because it sounds kind of creepy.) Let's see the two people who are in love (with themselves) struggle for a date to work.**

**Once again, thanks for the reviews. (I forgot to thank Mysterious, who reviewed several times, last chapter. Oh, and Mickeymouse4everz, who posted really hilarious reviews. Thanks, girl! XD)**

**And, hey, sorry this took a long time. I already wrote a draft, but I thought it was horrible, so I had to revise the entire thing.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TDI/A/WT/ROTI **

* * *

Anne Maria put her hand inside a baseball cap (the fishbowl was still gross) and produced a strip of paper that reeked mildly of vomit. Gagging, the Jersey Shore reject held the paper from a distance and squinted. "Justin." She frowned. "Who the hell is that? Don't expect me to know, I didn't watch Drama Rama 'fore those horrible singing—"

Suddenly she gasped in shock as the eye candy himself stood up and took off his shirt. Music began to play as Justin smiled and winked at Anne Maria. He flexed his muscles, making most of the girls gawk at him, much to the displeasure of the boys.

"Oh—I, um..." Anne Maria stammered. The melodious music swelled, which made her frown. "Where's all that music comin' from?"

"You know, you're the first person to ask that," Chris said with a frown as Chef switched the stereo off abruptly, producing the loudest feedback ever from the speakers. Everyone groaned, the Justin spell wearing off.

"Hmm," Anne Maria said, smiling. "Y'know, you're one dude that may be worthy of my eyes." When she said that, she shot a glare at Mike, who was too busy talking to Zoey. Then she became aware of her fabulous pouf and began spraying her head.

* * *

"Okay," Chris grumbled, holding the wheel.

Once again, another date was about to take place. After watching the footage of Dawn and Alejandro's date, Justin had flat-out declared that he would sue if they weren't going to dine in a proper restaurant.

"After all," the male model declared, "my stomach is just as gorgeous as all my other parts!"

Since Chris had a new-found phobia of lawsuits, he grudgingly set their date in a four-star restaurant. Except that he had to sneak them in the said restaurant, because they were apparently low on funds. (Heated toilet seats for Chris, after all, are of great priority.)

"Now," Chris whispered, "Rule number one. We're not supposed to be here, so we better be real quiet before we get caught and presumably arrested." The host gestured at a linen closet in the kitchen. "In case of approaching cops, hide in HERE. Failure to comply will lead to prison, under any circumstance, and you bet sorry butts that _I'm_ not going to bail you out on anything."

Justin shrugged, eyeing his abs in one of the mirrored windows. Anne Maria applied spray-on tan on her arm.

"Rule number two. Since the two of you are self absorbed idiots —"

"Hey!" Justin and Anne Maria protested in unison, without looking up from their mirrors.

"Shush!" Chris snapped, nervously looking at the surveillance camera. "Damn, I hope Chef was able to hack into the system."

* * *

"Go fish," Trent said, splaying his cards across the pool table in one of the hotel suites. His eyes widened. "Oh, man, can I have another card? I only have eight left!"

"That ain't the rules of this game!" Chef Hatchet grunted. "I'll draw."

Geoff frowned. "Chef, why are you here again?"

"Chris left," Chef said simply. "I guess that means it's my day-off." He frowned. "Ya know, I feel like I'm forgetting to do something." The cook paused for thirty seconds before grabbing a burger out of nowhere and taking a large bite.

"There you go," he said. "Can't play on an empty stomach."

* * *

"He probably did," Chris decided. "_Anyway_, since you're both self-absorbed idiots, we will be returning this!" An intern quietly entered the kitchen and rolled a giant wheel in.

"_Voila! _The Dating Wheel of Misfortune, from Duncan and Staci's date. Anne Maria, please do the honors."

The deeply tanned girl flicked the wheel with one hand, and the wheel began to roll.

It passed kiss, hug, dance monkey-style, dance King Tut-style...and landed on an option called "Positive Attributes."

Chris groaned. "Dammit! That's really lame! Like, all you have to do is list what you _like _about each other and that touchy-feely crap."

"I don't mind it," Justin said, raising an eyebrow at Anne Maria. Anne Maria shrugged and sprayed her head in response. "Anything you want, Justin, baby," she said in a sickly sweet voice.

So the two of them sat on a table in the kitchen.

"Let's start with me!" Justin said, pointing at himself.

"Okay, I'm lovin' you're cute face..."

Sixteen minutes passed. "You have a _way _better attitude then those _guidos _back home." The dark-haired girl glared at the camera. "Yes, Bruce, you know very well that I'm talkin' 'bout you! You crashed my convertible into the pool, ya -bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-!"

"Hey, easy on the language," Chris complained, holding the beeping profanity box. Apparently, they were too cheap to get professional digital editing.

After two hours, Anne Maria stopped talking, sprayed her hair, and batted her lashes at the male model. "Your turn."

Justin's eyes were shining. "Amazing!" he cried. "You give better PR than my modelling agent." He flexed his bicep. "You, madam, can grasp the perfection of my hottitude."

Anne Maria shrugged, looking confused. "Uh...thanks?"

"Anyway, the stuff I like about you," Justin said.

Two hours later...

Justin was wide-eyed. "This is the first time I talked about someone other than myself for more than ten minutes."

Anne Maria was literally crying. "No one ever told me that before!" she sobbed, her mascara running. "You're sweeter and hunkier and hotter than Vito!"

"Uh, wha—?" Chris suddenly woke up. "What happened?"

The duo stared at him blankly. He had fallen asleep on the counter three hours ago and failed to notice that his interns had drawn a beard/mustache/thick eyebrows combo on his face.

"God, how long have you two been jabbering?" he groaned. "Hel-_lo, _thirty minute show! Oh, no, we have to delete the footage! And I'm freaking hungry! Intern, heat me some lasagna!" he said.

"Fine with me," Justin said. "Because I have a new girlfriend!"

"That's so sweet!" Anne Maria gushed. She flew into Justin's arms, and they began making out heavily.

"Okay, number one, gross. Number two, what the hell kind of a date was that?" the host demanded, as the newly-formed couple began to make out near the oven.

Without noticing, Anne Maria accidentally dropped her spray-tan in the ajar oven.

They gazed into each other's eyes.

"You look almost as pretty as I do," Justin sighed.

"Your face is almost as wonderful to be watchin' as Jersey Shore," Anne Maria sighed.

The intern rushed in, holding a platter of leftover lasagna. He snickered at Chris's face, tossed the pasta into the oven, and set the timer. Without another word, he left, probably to laugh about his boss's predicament.

Chris frowned. "What he so happy about? If I had his job, I wouldn't be happy for shi—"

_BOOM!_

* * *

Chris, Anne Maria, Justin, and the interns woke up in the restaurant the next morning.

"What the—" the manager sputtered as he opened the door.

The place was covered with orange, gooey stuff. Thankfully, no one was badly hurt, but_ everyone..._

_..._was badly spray-tanned.

"My precious restaurant!" the manager sobbed.

"My beautiful skin!" Justin cried in horror.

"My gorgeous hair!" Chris screamed in agony as he looked at his orange hair.

The orange interns stared at each other in terror.

"He-ey, I look good!" Anne Maria exclaimed, checking out her newly tanned skin.

The manager pointed an accusing finger at Chris. "I am going to _sue _you, mister!"

"You have no proof!" Chris yelled, leaping for the cabinets.

"Surveillance cameras," the manager replied, half-smugly, half-angrily.

"Not gonna work," the host said, almost gleefully. "Chef had hacked into..."

Suddenly, Chef Hatchet came bursting in, looking panicked. "Oh, man, Chris, I totally forgot about the camera thing!"

Two burly security guards entered, both scowling.

Chris sighed. "Oh, what the hell." He turned to face the camera, his hair tanned orange, and his face with the beard and the 'stache. "Watch...Total...Drama...next week...Jo." And then he passed out.

* * *

**...wtf did I just write? I don't know, it's almost 3 am where I am. Aww, Chris, despite all the horrible things that happened to you, you're still one of my fave characters, okay? Lol, anyway, please REVIEW. :D**


	6. The Devious and The Jockette

**Well, um...I apologize for the long wait. :(**

**Okay. So, Jo and Scott. I'm not sure about this chapter...**

**Hey, did anyone notice that the order of the females choosing their dates is the same as the order of their elimination?**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TOTAL DRAMA.**

* * *

Chris stood in front of the camera, wearing a black ski mask, like a bank robber. "Hello, there, viewers. Uh, this is Chris McLean, in case anyone can't tell. So, last time on Total Drama...spray tan caused the annihilation of my movie star-quality hair. Now it's all...stringy and orange. And _some _interns thought that it would be a good idea to use PERMANENT marker on my face!"

A mob of interns suddenly made an appearance, screaming as a bunch of rabid wolves, Sasquatchanakwa, the bear, and some sort of a mutated banana with legs (it's a long story, but it involved an unfortunate turn of events for the life of a regular banana) chased them.

"On top of everything else, I got arrested for sneaking two imbeciles to a restaurant. I'm currently on parole...but, hey! At least I didn't get sued!" he chuckled maniacally, then continued. "Now, let's hear it for our _lovely_ lady, Jo!"

An athletic girl with dirty-blond hair stomped over to stand next to the host. "Can it, McLean."

"Nice to see that you're in the mood," Chris replied. (We assume that he quirked his eyebrows, but only his eyes and mouth were visible). He handed her the fishbowl. "Here are the candidates for your heart."

Jo grunted, stuck her arm in, and snatched a strip of paper. "I got..." Her face contorted in disgust. "Scott?!"

"Oh, brother." The said redneck groaned, and reluctantly stood up. "Do I have to go out with _him?" _he sneered.

"Lightning was sha-right!" Lightning shouted. "Jo _is _a dude!"

Jo rolled her eyes at Lightning and glowered at Scott. "Watch it, farm boy, or I can assure you that you'll encounter something worse than mutated sharks!"

"Like your face?" Scott quipped, earning a few chuckles from some of Jo's enemies, including Heather.

"That's it!" Jo lunged for the ginger-haired boy, only to be restrained by Chef.

"Take it easy," Chris chuckled. "Save the violence for the date!"

* * *

"I hate you," Jo griped. "And I hate this -censored- outfit!"

The unlikely duo had their date in some fast-food restaurant (once again, because of lacking funds). People were giving them curious stares, because both of them were dressed like they were going to a Red Carpet event.

As a part of their challenge, they had to wear certain clothes. Jo wore a long red dress with horribly _sparkly _jewelry and her face was made up like a drag queen's (not so different from the time she tried to seduce Sasquatchanakwa). Scott didn't look much better. His hair had been slicked back with way too much gel, and he was forced to wear an itchy tuxedo that didn't fit right.

They obviously didn't want to wear those, but they conceded for the sake of the money (although the conceding was anything but peaceful).

Scott rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because I _definitely _want to see you dressed like that." He wiped his mustard-covered mouth on his jacket sleeve, not even caring that the dry-cleaning probably cost a fortune. "Well, I _do _love horror movies."

"Hey!" Jo snapped. She snatched her burger from the table and took a big bite, deliberately messing up her lipstick.

They sat in sullen silence for a few minutes.

"So, how's life?" Scott lamely asked, since he was bored out of his skull. "Like, college and all?"

The jockette glanced at him skeptically as she gulped down her soda. "S'okay," she muttered.

Scott scoffed. "Whatever," he replied in his usual whiny voice.

Jo raised an eyebrow. "And how are _you _doing?" she countered, before hastily adding, "Not that I care, of course."

The redhead shrugged. "Farm, farm, and more farm. The dirt practically comes out of my ears." He chuckled. "You should've seen Pappy's face when the stupid Total Drama helicopter kidnapped me to go here."

"You went via helicopter?" Jo scowled. "No fair. Some idiot just smuggled me in a sack!"

Scott rolled his eyes. "Yeah, being locked in the lavatory while being bound and gagged sure was fun."

They sat in silence again.

Scott attempted (again) to start a conversation. "Are you and Brick together?"

Jo spat her drink out. "What? Sir Leaks-a-Lot? No way! What the hell?"

Stirring his soda, Scott sighed. "My pappy had someone install wi-fi in our house. Now he just sits there, reading some creepy-ass fanfiction instead of hunting, like he used to."

Jo frowned. "There are fanfictions about real people?"

"I know, right!" Scott threw his hands up. "You would not believe the 'Dott' thing going on! I haven't even talked to Dawn that much, except, you know, to accuse her and crap. And Scotterra, Scourtney, and Scott/Duncan, or whatever. And we're in the 'Cartoon' section, as if we're—"

"Wow," Chris chuckled, interrupting Scott's rant. "I didn't know that you were both _this _socially awkward at dates!"

"Shut up!" both of them yelled in unison.

"Can we just cut this date—" Scott abruptly stopped talking, and he raised a trembling finger to point out of the window. "F-F-F-F—"

A mutant shark grinned at them maliciously from the glass doors, causing some of the diners to gasp and evacuate the place.

"Yeah, last episode was totally boring," Chris said, checking out his fingernails lazily. "So, for old time's sake, I decided to bring in something that resembled the older challenges! You know, something of the running and screaming type?"

* * *

Needless to say, it took the entire kitchen staff to try to persuade Scott from the top of the refrigerator.

He was curled in fetal position, rocking back in forth.

"Oh, yeah," Chris called out. "Did I mention that failure to participate in challenges will lead to immediate disqualification? Meaning, no money?"

"What!" Jo exploded. "I didn't wear all this stuff just so we could lose! Scott, get your ass down here!"

"B-but…Fang…"

Suddenly, the door of the refrigerator snapped open, and, inexplicably, Fang himself emerged, wearing a sharky smirk.

"GAHH!" Scott screamed, and he jumped off, landing into Jo's arms.

"How is that even possible?" one of the kitchen staff people yelled.

The shark approached them, and the theme from _Jaws _began playing threateningly.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Jo sighed. Throwing Scott down, she threw a punch at the shark's face, making him faint. The blond jockette kicked him back to the fridge for good measure.

"Y-you saved me," Scott stammered. Then his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fainted.

"This is seriously lame," Jo snapped.

The kitchen staff nervously glanced at the fridge. "I think we should open a sushi bar!"

Chris prodded Scott's body with his foot and sighed. "Well, dude's out cold!" he announced. "Looks like this date is over, then."

"Finally," Jo sighed, yanking out the sparkly things from her ears. Kicking Scott's body, she stomped off.

"So...we're almost done with our ROTI female contestants. And _ow, _this ski mask itches," Chris winced.

An intern passed by, innocently whistling and holding some weird powder. Chris eyed him suspiciously, shrugged, and continued talking. "Next up is our Indie Chick...Zoey!"

Zoey walked in, twirling her red hair nervously. "Hi! Uh, I already have a boyfriend, so..." She sighed and took a strip of paper from the fishbowl. "Um," Zoey said. "I got..."

Suddenly, Fang threw open the fridge door. Scott regained consciousness, screamed, and ran out of the restaurant. Fang chased him, knocked down the camera, and the entire screen was reduced to static.

* * *

**No, this isn't a Scott-bashing chapter. I happen to like Scott. But I find his shark-fearing moments in All-Stars really hilarious, hence Fang's appearance. I threw in the fanfiction reference for...well, I just thought that the chapter was too short. And, I didn't mean to offend anyone with the mentioned ships. I ship Brick/ Jo sometimes (rarely, though). Sorry for the mild OOCness. Please review!**


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